F>RIOE 25 OENTS 




Successful Rural Plays 

A Strong List From Which to Select Your 
Next Play 

FARM FOLKS. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur 
Lewis Tubes. For five male and six female characters. Time 
of playing, two hours and a half. One simple exterior, two 
easy interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Flora Goodwin, a 
farmer's daughter, is engaged to Philip Burleigh, a young New 
Yorker. Philip's mother wants him to marry a society woman, 
and by falsehoods makes Flora believe Philip does not love her. 
Dave Weston, who wants Flora himself, helps the deception by 
intercepting a letter from Philip to Flora. She agrees to marry 
Dave, but on the eve of their marriage Dave confesses, Philip 
learns the truth, and he and Flora are reunited. It is a simple 
plot, but full of speeches and situations that sway an audience 
alternately to tears and to laughter. 

HOME TIES. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur 
Lewis Tubes. Characters, four male, five female. Plays two 
hours and a half. Scene, a simple interior — same for all four 
acts. Costumes, modern. One of the strongest plays Mr. Tubbs 
has written. Martin Winn's wife left him when his daughter 
Ruth was a baby. Harold Vincent, the nephew and adopted son 
of the man who has wronged Martin, makes love to Ruth Winn. 
She is also loved by Len Everett, a prosperous young farmer. 
When Martin discovers who Harold is, he orders him to leave 
Ruth. Harold, who does not love sincerely, yields. Ruth dis- 
covers she loves Len, but thinks she has lost him ialso. Then, 
he comes back, and Ruth finds her happiness. 

THE OLD NEW HAMPSHIRE HOME. A New 

England Drama in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For seven 
males and four females. Time, two hours and a half. Costumes, 
modern. A play with a strong heart interest and pathos, yet rich 
in humor. Easy to act and very effective. A rural drama of 
the "Old Homstead" and "Way Down East" type. Two ex- 
terior scenes, one interior, all easy to set. Full of strong sit- 
uations and delightfully humorous passages. The kind of a play 
everybody understands and likes. 

THE OLD DAIRY HOMESTEAD. A Rural Comedy 
in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For five males and four 
females. Time, two hours. Rural costumes. Scenes rural ex- 
terior and interior. An adventurer obtains a large sum of money 
from a farm house through the intimidation of the farmer's 
niece, whose husband he claims to be. Her escapes from the 
wiles of the villain and his female accomplice are both starting 
and novel. 

A WHITE MOUNTAIN BOY. A Strong Melodrama in 
Five Acts, by Charles Townsend. For seven males and four 
females, and three supers. Time, two hours and twenty minutes. 
One exterior, three interiors. Costumes easy. The hero, a 
country lad, twice saves the life of a banker's daughter, which 
results in their betrothal. A scoundrelly clerk has the banker 
in his power, but the White Mountain boy finds a way to check- 
mate his schemes, saves the banker, and wins the girl. 

THE PENN publishing COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



Ain't Women Wonderful? 

A Comedy in One Act 



By 

H. P. POWELL 

Author of "You re "it," " Uncertain Silat ' ' 




PHILADELPHIA 
THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1922 



P5353/ 



Copyright 1922 by The Penn Publishing Company 



Ain't Women Wonderful ? 



MAV I i 1922 

CI.D 607K5 



fXA^O 



I 



Ain't Women Wonderful ? 



CAST OF CHARACTERS 

Laura Epping A prominent Virginia suffragette 

Margie Epping her daughter 

Marie Stuart her sister 

Jane Claggett her secretary 

Chloe her negress servant 

Time of Playing : — About twenty-five minutes. 
Costumes : — Modern. 



PROPERTIES 

Furnishings in good taste and dainty cretonne win- 
dow hangings. Pictures of the nature of Cupid Awake 
and Asleep, The Age of Innocence and Whistler's 
Mother on the walls. 

There is a settee, a desk with a typewriter and tele- 
phone upon it. Chairs, tables, floor lamps, etc. 



Ain't Women Wonderful? 



SCENE. — Combined living-room and '" office '' in home 
of Laura Epping. French door, rear, disclosing 
porch and garden exterior. Door, right rear. Door, 
left front. 

{Curtain rises disclosing Laura Epping dictating a 
speech to her secretary, Jane Claggett. Mrs. Ep- 
ping is a zvoman of about forty-eight, in the '' stylish- 
stout'' classification, a decided brunette with an 
alert "" who said rats " expression, and a pugnacious 
manner. Her costume is shepherd's plaid with man- 
nish tendencies ; pockets in skirt, vest beneath 
tailored coat, standing collar with Windsor tie, coarse 
woolen stockings and brogans on her feet. Her 
pince-nez dangles from a broad black velvet ribbon, 
when she is not using it for emphasis in her nearly 
constant gesturing. She usually stands, at those 
rare moments when she is not in motion, with legs 
well apart rocking from heels to toes most com- 
placently. At present she is striding up and down, 
employing large gestures as she makes her points. 
Claggett is seemingly nondescript. A drab person 
of less than thirty, yet seeming considerably over 
forty. Her hair is tightly drawn over her head. 
Her clothes have all the mode of a burlap sack, and 
although one knows, of course, that they really 
haven't been slept in, one can't be too positive that 
they were not slept on. However, she is highly 
efficient, and etches her stenographic notes in a 
bored manner.) 



6 ain't women wonderful ? 

Laura (oratorically). Woman's place is in the busy 
marts of trade ; the mystic laboratories of science ; the 
wondrous labyrinth of art; the, — er, — er, — (she has 
flown too high, and comes lamely to earth, with:) the 
police and the fire departments. 

(Enter Marie Stuart, door rear. She is slightly 
younger than her sister, to whom she is a compleie 
foil. She is of a modest, friendly disposition, 
frankly lacking in either sympathy or respect for her 
sister's endeavors. She is becomingly dressed, in 
cool summerish garb, and has evidently just come 
from the garden, as she bears an arm fid of flowers, 
and wears a pair of fingerless gloves and carries in 
one hand a pair of pruning snips.) 

Marie. Who said fire? 

Laura {impatiently) . How many times must I in- 
sist that you do not interrupt while I am dictating one 
of my important speeches, Marie? 

Marie. Heavens upon us, honey, if I waited for a 
lull in your luUess speeches I'd soon grow dumb from 
sheer inarticulation. Since you've been bitten by this 
suffrage bug, life around this house is just one blessed 
speech after another. Who said fire? , 

Laura. No one. I had just, however, made the 
very saUent point that woman was as suited for the 
arduous duties of fire-fighter as man. What do you 
say to that ? 

Marie. Really, I'll be able to laugh more comfort- 
ably if I sit. 

(Marie sits on the settee and shakes with silent mirth, 
to Laura^s thorough annoyance, and Claggett's 
deep disgust. After a moment, Marie's mirth dies 
dozim, and she wipes honest tears from her eyes, and 
does it as ostentatiously as possible.) 

Laura (icily). My statement seems to cause you 
amusement. 

Marie. It does more than that, — it reminds me • 

Laura. Indeed ? 



ain't women wonderful ? 7 

Marie. Indeed. Remember the time, before you 
were married, when you got up a female volunteer fire 
department? You and Peg Valentine and Martha 
Custis and Margot Merriam, and goodness knows who 
else, and had pretty red suits made with gold braid 
and brass buttons, and practiced catching a dummy in 
a Hfe net? 

Laura. I remember it well, and most proficient did 
we become. 

Marie. Oh, most. You got tired, after a while, of 
catching a prosaic dummy, and persuaded that nice 
Briggs boy into taking its place for a change, and when 
he jumped out of Dad's barn window and it dawned 
upon the department that real iiesh and blood was 
bearing down upon them a mile a minute, they all be- 
came horrified, dropped the life net and covered their 
eyes with their hands to shut out the dread sight. 

{Here Marie is again overcome by her mirth, and 
Laura finally takes her by both shoulders and shakes 
her into sobriety.) 

Laura. For pity's sake, Marie, don't be utterly 
senseless. You forget we were but children, — and, 
besides, that idiot Harry Briggs was to blame for let- 
ting out that dreadful war-whoop as he jumped. 

Marie. It certainly was the most disastrous piece 
of whooping Harry ever indulged in. 

Laura. Served him right. All men are gnats. 

Marie. I like 'em. 

Laura. They are despots and fiends. 

Marie. I like 'em. 

Laura. They are woman's unrelenting enemy. 

Marie. I sure do like 'em. 

Laura. May I never rest this weary head until the 
gnat is swatted; the despot dethroned; the fiend ex- 
terminated and our dread enemy vanquished. {With 
zealous fervor.) My life, I consecrate to the holy 
cause. 

Marie. Fiddlesticks ! Your life has been conse- 
crated to one more or less holy cause after another 
ever since good old Everett Epping passed out with a 



8 ain't women wonderful? 

sigh of relief, and left you more money than you could 
spend for mourning. You have run the gauntlet from 
free silver to prohibition, and from prohibition to suf- 
frage. You are not a crusader, my dear, you're a — 
a — a muckraking — lizard — that's what you are. 

Laura. Marie ! 

Marie. That's it exactly. A lizard, — a chameleon 
who turns the color of whatever it happens to be on at 
the moment. 

Laura. How dare you impugn my pure motives ? 

Marie {dropping her banter). My dear sister, — 
once in every while or so I just naturally boil over at 
your foolishness. (Rises.) And this time I am all 
the hotter because you permit your transient zeal for 
man-hating to interfere with the proper presentation 
of your sweet Margie into society, for it is but her 
due to come out this year, and have an opportunity of 
eventually mating with the man of her choice. 

Laura. Margie's choice in life is my choice, and I 
have chosen to consecrate her to the cause also. 

Marie. Truly, a living sacrifice. 

(Enter Margie, door, right rear.) 
Margie. Good-morning, mother dear. 

(Margie is a mild-mannered girl of eighteen, very in- 
genuous; thoroughly submissive to and cowed by her 
mother.) 

Laura (loftily). My child! 

Margie (animatedly, to Marie). Oh! Aunt Marie! 
last night I dreamed 

Laura. Dreams are idiotic, — mannish, in fact. 
Don't do it again. 

Margie (losing all animation). Yes, mother. 

Marie. Margie, would you rather be President of 
the United States or the wife of a good man? 
^ Margie (quickly). Oh! I'd much rather be mar- 
ried. 

Laura. Pay no attention to your aunt's frivolity. 
You will never marry. 



ain't women wonderful ? 9 

Margie. Yes, mother. 

Laura. You are to hate all mankind. 

Margie. Yes, mother. 

Laura. Yooi are to devote your life to the Cause. 

Margie. Yes, mother. 

Marie. And you are to live happily ever after- 
ward — when you are dead. 

Margie. Yes, Aunty. 

(Claggett, who has been sitting austerely, during the 
preceding dialogue, nodding her head in approval 
of Mrs. Epping's commands, and frowning upon 
Marie'.? last speech, now arises and walks front 
center. ) 

Claggett. I trust that I may be allowed to recite 
my own sad experience, which will abundantly sup- 
port Mrs. Epping's plan for the upbringing of Miss 
Margie. 

Laura. I am certain, Claggett, that your story will 
be illuminating. 

Claggett. Five years ago I made the most horrible 
mistake of womankind. I allowed myself to imagine 
that I could love a man. 

Marie. Oh, how horrible! 

Claggett. Horrible, indeed. My every waking 
thought was of Bill. My dreams — Bill ! My devotion 
was a beautiful thing to behold — indeed, a rare orchid 
of love. He slighted me, and I but loved him the 
more. He heaped indignities upon me and I loved 
him none the less. We were to wed and I gave him 
all my/ savings to buy a suit of clothes to cover his 
improvident — hide — and I have never seen him since. 
(She closes her eyes a moment, and stands with her 
hands clenched at her sides, and then with hands out- 
stretched continues.) Oh, Miss Margie ! Miss Laura ! 
Miss Stuart! I now hate Bill with a deep undying 
hatred that would ask no greater boon than to sink 
these strong hands in his cu;*ly head, — oh ! his hair was 
so curly, — particularly above the temples — and snatch 
him bald-headed — bald-headed! 



10 ain't women wonderful ? 

Marie. My dear woman, if you had only pulled 
his hair good for him, five years ago, instead of acting 
like a milksop, he would be handing over his pay 
envelope every week as regular as Saturday rolls 
around. Mankind requires a certain line of han- 
dling, — but the technique may be acquired. 

Laura. Impossible ! Man is the lowest form of 
animal life, and he must be exterminated. 

Claggett (inspired), Down with Man! 

Marie. Margie, you come to my room, and Til tell 
you some things about Man that are not altogether 
unpleasant. 

Laura (sternly). She will do nothing of the kind. 
Margie, you may go to your room and study your suf- 
frage catechism,. 

Margie. Yes, mother. 

(Exit Margie, door, left front.) 

Laura. Marie, you are simply incorrigible. 

Marie. Fudge and fiddlesticks ! I'm the only one 
in the whole household with an ounce of common 
sense. 

(Enter Chloe, door, right rear.) 
Chloe. Lawsy, Miss Laura, it's gone ! 

(Chloe is a typical Southern darky, of the Aunt 
Jemimy type. Short, fat, big lipped. Neatly 
dressed in red and white calico, with her woolly head 
bound with a bandana handkerchief. She is more 
or less of a privileged character, which makes it 
practically impossible to swerve her from a round- 
about, indirect manner of speaking.) 

Laura. What's gone? 

Chloe. I'se done looked high, and I'se done looked 
low, an' — it's gone. 

Marie. Well, Chloe, if you're quite convinced that 
it is really and truly gone, — what is it ? 

Chloe. I tell you de blessed truf. Miss Marie, I'se 
hunted up-stairs, and I'se hunted down-stairs, an' I'se 
hunted in de cellar, an', I tell you, it am gone ! 



ain't women wonderful? II 

Laura. Chloe, what in the world are you talking 
about ? 

Chloe. Yessum, I looked in yo' beyourow ; I looked 
in yo' sheff anearbeer ; Tse looked under de fo' poster 
bed what Genril Washington slept in when he visited 
yo' great-great-great-grandpa, an' I shook all de rag 
rugs, an', Miss Laura, it am gone ! 

Marie. Chloe, if you don't stop beating around the 
bush, and tell us what you're talking about, I'll skin 
you alive. 

Chloe. Sho' now, — ain't I done tol' you what it 
was? 

Marie. You've told us every conceivable thing un- 
der the sun but that. 

Chloe (laughing boisterously). He ! he ! he ! Now 
ain't dat me all over? (Her mirth dies abruptly, and 
blinking her eyes to enable her to regain a proper air 
of tragedy, she whispers loudly.) Miss Laura's big 
di'mon ring! 

(This announcement is quite the thunderbolt Chloe 
anticipates, and her three auditors are spellbound 
for a moment. ) 

Laura. Call the police! 

Marie. The police haven't got enough sense to 
help, — I've often heard you say so yourself. 

Laura. When a five thousand dollar ring is stolen, 
you are in no position to be swayed by prejudice. 
Claggett, call the police at once. 

(Claggett takes up the telephone directory, but her 
efficiency has departed, and she hunts wildly from 
one end to the other and back.) 

Chloe (struck by a sudden thought). Doggone! 
I wasn't dreaming dis mawnin' after all. I did see a 
man comin' outta Miss Laura's room, I bet a dolla I 

Laura. You what ? 

Chloe. Sho' as you lives. Dis mawnin' about fo* 
o'clock, when I was going down to start to make up 
some waffle batter for breakfast I saw a man come out 



12 ain't women wonderful? 

of your room. I knew a man wouldn't be allowed 
any nearer to your room dan de sidewalk, so I jes' con- 
clude dat I ain't wake up all over, an' I didn't say 
nothin', but — {She pauses for the dramatic effect, so 
dear to a darky's heart, and pointing her finger slowly 
from one to the other of her auditors, whispers,) It 
was — de — burglar ! 

(Claggett shudders, and drops the directory, — picks it 
lip and again shuffles it aimlessly.) 

Laura. Merciful heavens, — suppose he had over- 
powered me in my sleep ! 

Marie. Flatterer! {To Claggett.) Claggett, 
what in the world is causing you to take so long? 

Claggett. Is headquarters in the Q's? I'm so 
frightened ! 

(Laura disdains directory and takes 'phone off hook.) 

Laura. Police headquarters, quick. — Hello, — police 
headquarters — This is Mrs. Laura Epping — Mrs. 
Laura Epping — No, Laura — One of my most valuable 
diamond rings was stolen this morning by a marauder. 
He was seen in the house about four o'clock this morn- 
ing, by a superstitious negress, who thought she was 
dreaming — You caught him ! — Why, that's simply won- 
derful, wonderful! Did you get the ring? — Well, 
search him again, — he's got it. — Give him the third 
degree and call me up as soon as he disgorges, won't 
you, please? — Thank you so much — You officers are 
so efficient! (Laura hangs up receiver and turns to 
Marie.) It is hard to believe that a mere man could 
have so much sense. A patrolman saw a man leaving 
our grounds this morning, and arrested him upon sus- 
picion. He has been searched, but only had twenty- 
three dollars and a bunch of keys. The chief is going 
to give him the third degree. {The 'phone rings.) 
Oh, they've recovered the ring. {Picks up receiver.) 
Hello, — Did he confess? — What? — Who? — Oh, yes, 
she's here. {Turns to Claggett.) Claggett, a man 
wants to speak to you. 



ain't women wonderful? 13 

(Claggett picks up the receiver,) 

Claggett {sharply). Well, what is it? What do 
you want ? {Her face registers a gradual change from 
coldness to svir prise to amazement to delight.) Bill! 
Oh, my precious boy, where have you been ? — (Dh, Bill ! 
— Oh, Bill. — Oh, no, darling, I didn't mind at all — I 
always knew you'd come back to me some day. — Never 
mind the old money, Tve got plenty more, and you may 
have every cent of it if you only won't go away any 
more.— Oh, Bill— Oh, Bill !— You mean it ? Will you 
really marry me. Bill? — Sure, Til quit my job — I'll do 
anything you say — Five minutes? — Sure, — I'll meet 
you at the gate ! A Ford ? Oh, Bill, how wonder- 
ful, — I love those foreign cars. — Yea ! — Good-bye ! — 
Oh, Billy-boy sie, — listen {She sends a rapid series of 
wire kisses) — A million if you want them! Oh, Bill! 

{She hangs up the receiver, and holds the 'phone close 
to her breast looking dreamily into space,) 

Marie {dryly). Well, I see where Bill's curly head 
gets snatched bald-headed ! 

Claggett. Not for a million dollars! Oh, Miss 
Marie ! it curls so beautifully, — particularly over the 
temples. — But, there, I must hurry — he said five min- 
utes, and I don't dare be late a second. He's so mas- 
terful. Chloe, do come help me pack. 

{Exit Claggett, door, left front.) 

Chloe. De sun do move ! 

{Exit Chloe, door, left front.) 

Marie. A backslider in the amen corner. 

Laura. How can a woman make such a fool of 
herself over a man? Thank goodness, I have shielded 
my dear daughter from the malign influence of any 
man. To think, Marie, — eighteen and never been 
alone with a man for five minutes ! 

Marie. When she does, they'll hear the explosion 
in Tampa, Florida. 



14 AIN*T WOMEN WONDERFUL ? 

{'Phone hell rings, Laura answers it.) 

Laura. Oh, yes, Chief, did he confess? {Enter 
Margie, door, left front.) He didn't? — Oh, but he 
must ! — Did you give him the third degree ? — AVell, 
then, give him the fourth. — Kill him! What? — He 
says his name is Kirk Langhorne? 

(Margie emits a wild scream, and snatches the 'phone 
from- her mother. Her docile nature has suddenly 
become fiercely dominant, to the natural amazement 
of her mother.) 

Margie {talking into ' phone) , How dare you hurt 
my Kirk? — Don't you dare, do you hear me? Don't 
you dare touch him. — I don't care, you let him loose 
this instant.— He is not a burglar, anything of the sort. 
— He is not, I say. — I don't care what any one says, — 
I guess I know. — He had a perfect right to be here ! 

Laura. What was a man doing in this house last 
night ? 

Margie {covering 'phone with her hand). Nothing 
that he hadn't a perfect right to do. He's my hus- 
band, I guess. 

Marie {casting her hands upward). The deluge! 

Margie {speaking into 'phone). Please, nice Mis- 
ter Chief of Police, I'm Mrs. Epping's daughter, and 
Mr. Langhorne is my husband. We've been married 
for five months, but I was afraid to tell mother, — she's 
so silly where men are concerned. Please go get a 
taxi and send him to me right away. — What? — Oh! 
{To Laura.) Here, he wants you to say it's all right 
to turn my Kirk loose. {Hands her 'phone.) Say it 
and say it quick. 

Laura {speaking into 'phone). Oh, Chief, I fear 
it is all a horrible mistake — I never dreamed — Please 
release the vil — I mean, my son-in-law. {She hangs 
up the receiver and sobs into her handkerchief.) Oh, 
my little, pure lambkin, — to think that any brute should 
have taken such gross advantage of your sweet inno- 
cence. 



AIN*T WOMEN WONDERFUL ? I5 

Margie (a very new Margie). Now, mother, you 
just can that stuff! 

Laura. Can that stuff ? Slang, — Oh, my pet ! 

Margie. Well, then, cut it out. Kirk didn't put 
anything over on me, and you simply made me deceive 
you, for no woman can live without her man, — and, be- 
lieve me or not. Kirk is some man, and as I suppose 
he is not welcome here, Tm. going with him right now. 
Good-bye. 

Marie {^putting her arm around Margie's waist). 
Now, honey, you must not be hasty. Tm sure your 
mother wants your husband here. 

Laura. Yes, my child, bring him here. Don't 
leave me. 

Margie. Upon one condition. 

Laura. Name it, dear. 

Margie. You must be nice to him. 

Laura. Yes, daughter. 

Marie. That is my idea of something not to worry 
about. To my mind, it is much more important to 
settle upon a suitable wedding gift. 

Laura. If I only had that wretched ring, Fd give 
her that. 

Marie. Do you really mean it? 

Laura. Of course I mean it. 

(Laura picks up a covered vase in an absent-minded 
manner.) 

Marie. Well, then, give it to her. It's in that vase 
right now. 

(Laura wonderingly opens the vase, and with a 
smothered exclamation removes the ring from it. 
Margie delightedly takes it from her, puts it upon 
her own finger, and holding her hand at arm's length 
admires it.) 

Laura. Marie, I am really amazed that even you 
should play such a very mean practical joke. What 
possessed you to put my ring in this vase ? 

Marie. My dear sister, I have not had my hands 
on your ring. 



i6 ain't women wonderful? 

Laura. Then who did ? 

Marie. You did. 

Laura. You are jesting. 

Marie. I was never more serious. You placed it 
there yourself, last night. 

Laura. OJE course I never did anything so idiotic. 

Marie. If walking in your sleep be idiotic, you're 
as guilty as guilty can be. 

Laura. Heavens, I, a somnambulist ? 

Marie. Without doubt. 

Margie. For shame, mother, — that's so masculine. 

{Two different tones of automobile horns are heard 
off stage. Enter Claggett, door, left front, fol- 
lowed by Chloe, carrying her travelling bag. Clag- 
GETT and Margie r^ish to door, rear.) 

Claggett. It's Bill in the flivver!, 
Margie. It's Kirk in the police patrol ! 

{Exit Margie and Claggett, through door, rear, fol- 
lowed by Chloe with Claggett's bag.) 

Laura. So much for my teachings. 

Marie. Claggett is a total loss, I admit ; but I have 
a strong notion that with the waning of the honeymoon 
Margie w411 show you some entirely new ideas in man 
control. 

Laura. Poor Margie! 

Marie. Say, rather, poor Kirk. 

Laura. Say, rather, poor Laura Epping. My life 
is a failure. 

Marie. Never give up the ship. 

{Enter Chloe, door rear, with telegram, which she 
offers to Laura.) 

Chloe. Miss Laura, a boy done brung you dis tel- 
lumgram. 

Laura {panic-stricken). Oh, merciful fathers. 
More bad luck. I know it, I just know it. Oh, 
mercy, mercy ! 

Marie. Why not open the thing and find out what 
it says, before making any funeral arrangements ? 



AIN*T WOMEN WONDERFUL? I7 

Laura. I would die before I touched it. I never 
could ! 

(Marie takes the telegram and opens it,) 

Marie. Listen. '' Mrs. Laura Epping, Richmond, 
Virginia. Tennessee ratifies eighteenth amendment. 
Woman's slavery ended. Much due to your noble ef- 
forts. Signed, The National Woman's Party." 

Laura {without enthusiasm). That's very fine, 
isn't it ? 

Marie. There, I know you're enraptured. 

Laura. Yes, I guess I am pleased, but, do you 
know, Marie, I've been thinking for the past few mo- 
ments that I was intended for nobler things than this 
womanish twaddle. 

Marie. What ! a deserter at the moment of victory. 

Laura. Oh, no, no, no. Nothing like that, of 
course. {Pause.) But, you know, I've been reading 
up on the Red question the last few days, and I am 
convinced that way down deep in my real heart of 
hearts I am a Socialist. 

Marie. An Anarchist ! 

Laura. As usual, you're silly. The Bolsheviki 
rule through the universal love of man. 

Marie. Well, one good thing, you can't do much 
harm on this side of the water, other than to read their 
literature. 

Laura. Indeed I can. I intend to secure Trotsky's 
authority to organize the state of Virginia as the first 
soviet in the United States. That will indeed be an 
honor. 

Marie. Laura Epping, you disgust me. I had just 
begun to think that you had a glimmer of sense. 

Laura. What do you mean, Marie ? 

Marie. I mean that this emancipation of woman- 
kind opens up vast possibilities for the salvation of the 
world, and it is an honor for any woman to be allowed 
to labor in such a holy cause. 

Laura. But you've always ridiculed the idea. 

Marie. Perhaps. At any rate, I've changed my 
mind, and I feel constrained to say that I consider you 



i8 ain't women wonderful? 

more of a nit-wit than ever. You're simply a hare- 
brained notoriety seeker, and a disgrace to the family. 
But I shall take up the banner that you fling into the 
dust, and consecrate my life to the holy cause. 

(Exit Marie, door, left front, head held high.) 

Laura. Well, of all people. (To Chloe.) I want 
you to take all these pictures from their frames. (In- 
dicates pictures on wall with szveeping gesture.) I 
have received some wonderful portraits of Lenine, 
Trotsky and John Spargo, and I feel that they will 
prove an inspiration to me in my new work. 

Chloe. Yassum. 

Laura (thoughtfidly) . I really must have some 
new photographs made of myself, for the papers will 
all want them when I make my formal announcement. 
(Walks slowly to door, left front.) I wonder if I 
would look well in Red. 

(Exit, door, left front. Chloe looks after her, her 
eyes blinking her amazement. After a moment she 
chuckles and begins taking down picture frames.) 

Chloe. Happy Ian', happy Ian' ! Miss Margie 
made out she jes' a 'bedient li'l' lam', an' come to fin' 
out, she been married all de time. Dat old sour milk 
Claggett 'low she jes' livin' fer de day when she kin 
tromp her ole beau underfoot, an' she no mo' hears he 
voice on de 'phone dan you kin melt butter in her 
mouf. Miss Laura been de rankest man-hater, twell 
she git him where she want him, and right den an' 
dere she start talking 'bout hanging up men's pictures 
fer ter 'spire her; an' all de time Miss Marie make 
fun 'er de suffragettums like she hate de soun' er de 
word, an' all uv a sudden, — bang! it am music to her 
year. (She finishes taking down the pictures, and 
coming up stage, places her hands on her hips and con- 
cludes. ) I gotta admit dey ain't got a lick er sense, — 
but, — ain't women wonderful ? 

CURTAIN 



Unusually Good Entertainmenls 

Read One or More of These Before Deciding on 
Your Next Program 

GRADUATION DAY AT WOOD HILL SCHOOL. 

An Entertainment in Two Acts, by Ward Macauley. For six 
males and four females, with several minor parts. Time of 
playing, two hours. Modern costumes. Simple interior scenes^ 
may be presented in a hall without scenery. The unusual com-rf 
.bination of a real "entertainment," including music, recitations, 
J etc., with an interesting love story. The graduation exercises 
include short speeches, recitations, songs, funny interruptions, 
and a comical speech by a country school trustee. 

EXAMINATION DAY AT WOOD HTLL SCHOOL. 

An Entertainment in One Act, by Ward Macauley. Eight maU 
and six female characters, with minor parts. Plays one hour» 
Scene, an easy interior, or may be given without scenery. Cos- 
tumes- modern. Miss Marks, the teacher, refuses to marry a 
trustee, who threatens to discharge her. The examination in- 
cludes recitations and songs, and brings out many funny answers 
to questions. At the close Robert Coleman, an old lover, claims 
the teacher. Very easy and very effective. 

BACK TO THE COUNTRY STORE. A Rural Enter- 
tainment in Three Acts, by Ward Macauley. For four male 
and five female characters, with some supers. Time, two hours. 
Two scenes, both easy interiors. Can be played effectively with- 
out scenery. Costumes, modern. All the principal parts are 
sure hits. Quigley Higginbotham, known as "Quig," a clerk in 
a country store, aspires to be a great author or singer and 
decides to try his fortunes in New York. The last scene is in 
Quig's home. He returns a failure but is offered a partnership 
in the country store. He pops the question in the midst of a 
surprise party given in his honor. Easy to do and very funny. 

THE DISTRICT CONVENTION. A Farcical Sketch 
in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For eleven males and one 
female, or twelve males. Any number of other parts or super- 
numeraries may be added. Plays forty-five minutes. No special 
scenery is required, and the costumes and properties are all 
easy. The play shows an uproarious political nominating con- 
vention. The climax comes when a woman's rights cham- 
pion, captures th*i convention. There is a great chance to bur- 
lesque modern politics and to work in local gags. Every 
part will make a hit. 

^ SI SLOCUM'S COUNTRY STORE. An Entertainment 
4in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eleven male and five female 
characters with supernumeraries. Several parts may be doubled. 
Plays one hour. Interior scene, or may be played without set 
scenery. Costumes, modern. The rehearsal for an entertain- 
ment in the village church gives plenty of opportunity for 
specialty work. A very jolly entertainment of the sort adapted 
to almost any place or occasion. 

THE PSNN PUBUSHING COMPANY 



Unusually Good Entertainments 

Read On# or More of These Before Deciding on 
Your Next Program 

A ftURPRISE PARTY AT BRINKLEY'Sc An En- 

tertftiament in One Scene, by Ward Macauley. Seven male and 
seven female characters. Interior scene, or may be given with- 
out scenery. Costumes, modern. Time, one hour. By the 
^thor of the popular successes, "Graduation Day at Wood HiiP 
School," "Back to the Country Store," etc. The villagers have, 
planned a birthday surprise party for Mary Brinkley, recently 
ffraduated from college. They all join in jolly games, songs,* 
Conundrums, etc., and Mary becomes engaged, which surprises 
the surprisers. The entertainment is a sure success. 

JONES VS. JINKS. A Mock Trial in One Act, by 
Edward Mumford. Fifteen male and six female characters, with 
supernrnmeraries if desired. May be played all male. Many of the 
parts (members of the jury, etc.) are small. Scene, a simple 
interior ; may be played without scenery. Costumes, modern. 
Time of playing, one hour. This mock trial has many novel 
features, unusual characters and quick action. Nearly every 
character has a funny entrance and laughable lines. There are 
many rich parts, and fast fun throughout. 

THE SIGHT-SEEING CAR. A Comed> Sketch in One 
Act, by Ernest M. Gould. For seven males, t^vo females, or 
may be all male. Parts may be doubled, with quick changes, so 
that four persons may play the sketch. Time, forty-five minutes. 
Simple street scene. Costumes, modern. The superintendent 
of a sight-seeing automobile engages two men to run the 
machine. A Jew, a farmer, a fat lady and other humorous 
characters give them all kinds of trouble. This is a regular gat- 
ling-gun stream of rollicking repartee. 

THE CASE OF SMYTHE VS. SMITH. An Original 
Mock Trial in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eighteen males 
and two females, or may be all male. Plays about one hour. 
Scene, a county courtroom ; requires no scenery ; may be played 
in an ordinary hall. Costumes, modern. This entertainment is 
nearly perfect of its kind, and a sure success. It can be easily 
produced in any place or on any occasion, and provides almost 
any number of good parts. 

THE OLD MAIDS' ASSOCIATION. A Farcical Enter- 
tainment in One Act, by Louise Latham Wilson. For thirteen 
females and one male. The male part may be played by a 
female, and the number of characters increased to twenty or 
more. Time, forty minutes. The play requires neither scenery' 
nor properties, and very little in the way of costumes. Can^ 

fasily be prepared in one or two rehearsals. 
BARGAIN DAY AT BLOOMSTEIN'S. A Farcical 
Entertainment in One Act, by Edward Mumford. For five males 
and ten females, with supers. Interior scene. Costumes, mod- 
ern. Time, thirty minutes. The characters and the situationf 
wjliich arise from their endeavors to buy and sell make rapid-fire 
fun from start to finish. 

THE «»ENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 



Successful Plays for All Girls 

In Selecting Your Next Play Do Not Overlook This List 

YOUNG DOCTOR DEVINE. A Farce in Two Acts, 
by Mrs. E. J. H. Goodfellow. One of the most popular 
plays for girls. For nine female characters. Time in 
playing, thirty minutes. Scenery, ordinary interior. Mod- 
ern costumes. Girls in a boarding-school, learning that a 
young doctor is coming to vaccinate all the pupils, eagerly con- 
sult each other as to the manner of fascinating the physician. 
When the doctor appears upon the scene the pupils discover that 
the physician is a female practitioner. 

SISTER MASONS. A Burlesque in One Act, by Frank 
DuMONT. For eleven females. Time, thirty minutes. Costumes, 
fantastic gowns, or dominoes. Scene, interior. A grand expose 
of Masoniy. Some women profess to learn the secrets of a 
Masonic lodge by hearing their husbands talk in their sleep, 
and they institute a similar organization. 

A COMMANDING POSITION. A Farcical Enter- 
tainment, by Amelia Sanford. For seven female char- 
acters and ten or more other ladies and children. Time, one 
hour. Costumes, modern. Scenes, easy interiors and one street 
scene. Marian Young gets tired living with her aunt. Miss 
Skinflint. She decides to "attain a commanding position." 
Marian tries hospital nursing, college settlement work and 
school teaching, but decides to go back to housework. 

HOW A WOMAN KEEPS A SECRET. A Comedy 
in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For ten female characters. 
Time, half an hour. Scene, an easy interior. Costumes, modern. 
Mabel Sweetly has just become engaged to Harold, but it's *'the 
deepest kind of a secret." Before announcing it they must win 
the approval of Harold's uncle, now in Europe, or lose a possible 
ten thousand a year. At a tea Mabel meets her dearest friend. 
Maude sees Mabel has a secret, she coaxes and Mabel tells her. 
But Maude lets out the secret in a few minutes to another 
friend and so the secret travels. 

THE OXFORD AFFAIR. A Comedy in Three Acts, 
by Josephine H. Cobb and Jennie E. Paine. For eight female 
characters. Plays one hour and three-quarters. Scenes, inter- 
iors at a seaside hotel. Costumes, modern. The action of the 
play is located at a summer resort. Alice Graham, in order to 
chaperon herself, poses as a widow, and Miss Oxford first claims 
her as a sister-in-law, then denounces her. The onerous duties 
of Miss Oxford, who attempts to serve as chaperon to Miss 
Howe and Miss Ashton in the face of many obstacles, furnish 
an evening of rare enjoyment. 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

PHILADELPHIA 



The Power of E ^^a^"^ ^^ congress 




018 391 011 5 



Expression and efficiency go hand in hj 

The power of clear and forceful exp 

dcnce and poise at all times — in private gatherings, in puDllc 

discussion, in society, in business 

It is an invaluable asset to any man or woman. It can often 
be turned into money, but it is always a real joyc 

In learning to express thought^ we learn to command 
bought itself, and thought is power. You can have this 
power if you will 

Whoever has the power of clear expression is always surg 
©f himself, 

J'he power of expression leads to: 

The ability to think ''on your feet'* 

Successful public speaking 

Effective recitals 

The mastery over other minds 

Social prominence 

Business success 

Efficiency in any undertaking 

2%re these things worth while? 

They are all successfully taught at The National School cS 
Elocution and Oratory, which during many years has de- 
veloped this power in hundreds of men and women. 

A catalogue giving full information as to how any of these 
accomplishments may be attained will be sent free on request, 

THE NATIONAL SCHOOL OF 
ELOCUTION AND ORATORY 

40 J 2 Chestnut Street Philadelphia 






